The Surveillance Skull Incident
by Switchblade27
Summary: Sherlock is being watched, and not by Mycroft. For once, ne's completely clueless. Meanwhile, Sheldon doesn't know who he's supposed to be studying, or who he's working for. All they know is that something odd is going on, and they need to get to the bottom of it. Even if it means working together.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One  
"Excuse me, sir, but is this your coat?" squeaked the tall, skinny man, with an irritating falsetto.  
The equally lanky man in the purple shirt whipped around to face the man who he was addressing.  
"No," he muttered under his breath, with a voice that was surprisingly deep in comparison. He seemed utterly entranced by his smartphone, the dark blue layout of his blog projected like an old fashioned film on his pale white face.  
"Now, are you sure?" continued the annoying voiced man, ignorant of the other man's disinterest, and gesturing with his hands while waving around the long coat he held folded over his left arm. "Because it was on your chair, and the logical conclusion that one would make is that this is, in fact, your coat."  
The man received another simple "no" in response.  
"No you're not sure, or no it is your coat, or no it isn't?"  
"It's not my coat!" bellowed the purple shirted man, shooting the annoying voiced man a look that could turn people to stone. "My...*ahem*...colleague, Dr. Watson is fetching my coat."  
"Sherlock!" called a short, mousy, jumper clad man from across the hall. He ran up to the purple shirted man, panting, and stuttered, "I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find your coat."  
Before the annoying voiced man could even respond, a similar looking curly haired man in thick rimmed, rectangular glasses ran up to him, a frown of disapproval upon his face.  
"Sheldon," he winged, the corners of his mouth folding up as he scratched the side of his wide forehead. "Did you find the owner of this coat? We're going to be late for that physics lecture you wanted to attend!"  
"Don't you remember, Leonard?" he asked, his pouty impression turning into that idiotic "why must you be so ignorant" grin that Leonard knew so well. "We're going with Howard to the new exhibition of Carl Sagan's photographs in the London Science Museum."  
Dr. Watson cleared his throat, impatiently. "I'll take the coat, thanks," he said, pressing his lips together in an awkward smile before Sherlock or Sheldon could protest.  
"John," Sherlock whispered to Dr. Watson, "we're going to the London Science Museum."  
"Why?" John asked, confused. "This is not my coat."  
"Give it up, Sherlock," sighed John.  
Sherlock stretched out the lining of the coat so John could see. Inside were stitched the following words in blood red thread.  
"Follow them. -Daddy"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Make a left here, if you will."

The cab driver cringed at the sound of Sheldon's overly formal, yet oddly high pitched register.

"And a right here."

Leonard turned towards Sheldon confusedly.

"Where are we going now, Sheldon?" he asked exhaustedly. "I'm tired of your secrecy."

"I have to make a phone call," Sheldon replied, matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"A phone call Leonard, I need to contact someone by-"

"I know what a phone call is!"

Sheldon got out abruptly, leaving Leonard to reluctantly pay the cabbie with the few crumpled bills in his jeans pocket.

Leonard looked over to Sheldon, who was currently occupied with an old fashioned looking red phone booth outside the London , the kind that was scattered all over the tourist district

"Yes...yes...understood...good day Jim."

When Sheldon turned to step out, he came face to face with Sherlock, who stood a frightening half inch above him.

"So I see you've met Professor Moriarty."

"Yes, his paper on the effects of space research on the American psyche is excellent. You're familiar with him?"

"He is an...adversary of mine. I assumed you were a bit more familiar with the real Professor Moriarty."

"The real Moriarty?" A look of intrigue crept onto the thin man's face.

"Yes. Meet me at 221 B Baker Street at eight o' clock tonight and I will tell you all about it."

Without waiting for a reply, Sherlock turned and stalked away, followed by an upset Dr. Watson.

"Sherlock, you can't just go inviting strangers to the flat!"

Sheldon paced away in the other direction, shadowed by an equally irritated Leonard.

"Sheldon, you know you can't just show up at a stranger's apartment."

"Of course not," looking down at Leonard, voice dripping with self proclaimed superiority. "Not without bringing something to eat. Social convention dictates."

Leonard shook his head and sighed, wondering what Sheldon had gotten himself into.

*knock knock knock*'

"Sir."

*knock knock knock*

"Sir."

*knock knock knock*

"Sir."

"Maybe he's not actually home. Maybe, just maybe, you're being pranked," offered Leonard. "Come on Sheldon, Howard will be disappointed if we don't meet him."

"Then what," began Sheldon stubbornly, "am I to do with this casserole?" Sheldon lifted up a glass case safely ensconced in a Forbidden Planet bag to Leonard's eye level. Leonard eyed his tall roommate with contempt.

"Coming, coming." The voice of John Watson was muffled behind the door. A sound of the latch, and he was reluctantly welcoming them in.

"Here, sit down," he offered, shoving a pile of papers onto the floor.

"We brought a casserole," Sheldon said excitedly, once again elevating the tray.

"Thanks, thanks. I'll go get Sherlock. And make some tea, care for a cup?"

"No, we're fine," Leonard replied politely.

"Now, Leonard," Sheldon scolded condescendingly. "You know you don't speak for me."

"So, you want some tea?" Watson confirmed.

"Is it gluten free?" Leonard cringed, and mouthed, sorry.

"Yes," John lied.

"Then no. I like my tea full of gluten," Sheldon replied, pursing his lips in a pouty glare.

"Alright, nevermind." John scurried off into what Leonard assumed was Sherlock's bedroom.

"What are you doing in my room?" John hissed at Sherlock.

"There is no organizational system here," Sherlock remarked, tossing a handful of shirts to the floor.

"Well, we have company. Get up."

Sherlock stalked away into the living room, obviously oblivious of the pair of pants loosely slung over his head. At the sight of Sheldon's smug grin, and Leonard's eyes widened in horror, he quickly shook them off.

"Shall we discuss Professor Moriarty?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Raj, don't look, it's Medusa! She'll turn you to stone!"

Penny sat up out of bed and rubbed red eyes.

"Very funny," she hissed at Howard. She reached to grab a mirror and he snatched it away.

"Don't want to turn yourself to stone, now do you?" he asked with a grin. Raj suppressed a snicker and turned his head.

"Of all the people I could have been stuck with, it's you two." She snatched the mirror from Howard and held it up to her face.

"Whoa."

Tufts of blonde hair stuck out from her head at every possible angle.

Raj whispered something into Howard's ear and he shook with laughter.

"Will you two shut up?" Penny pulled a hairbrush off the bedside table and began attacking her long locks.

Raj took a swig of whiskey from the flask he had began toting around and ventured, "I think I got a text from Sheldon."

"Let's see," Howard said curiously, grabbing at the phone. Penny peered over the two men's shoulders.

"Meet me at 221B Baker St," Penny mumbled. "Urgent."

"That's weird," Howard said, his nasally voice lowering to a more serious octave. "He only sends little snippets like that when he's in danger."

Raj and Penny looked at him wide eyed.

"Or when he thinks he's in danger," he added to ease the tension. "We should go anyway."

"Is this a real skull?"

Sherlock ignored Penny's inquiries, and continued drawing out his map for Sheldon.

"The last crime this year associated with Moriarty occured right-" Sherlock placed a thumbtack into the corkboard backed map "-here."

Sheldon tilted his head to the side for a better perspective. "An S-shaped pattern! How fascinating! You're lucky to have such an interesting enemy. My own arch enemy, Will-"

"No," Leonard groaned. "No one cares about Will Wheaton." Leonard was half asleep, yet he awoke simply to stop the onslaught of snide comments that he knew were to come.

John, who until now was deep in his slumber, yawned groggily. "Isn't he that guy from-"

He was stopped by Leonard who held out a cautionary hand. John nodded, then fell back to his dreams.

"How incredibly dull," Jim Moriarty sighed, eyeing the blonde girl currently occupying the television in his living room.

Penny blinked her eyes and squinted at one of the eyes of the skull. She poked a finger at the little lens on the inner back of the skull, then retreated, leaving it lying facing the ceiling.

"No, no, no, no!" Jim and Sebastian chanted in unison.

"Our viewer ratings went down considerably, Jim." Sebastian's voice was gruff, even when he joked.

"Just put it back how you found it, stupid, stupid girl!" Moriarty exhaled violently, clenching his fists.

"We could have some fun with this one later then?" Sebastian Moran asked expectantly.

"Oh, it would be a crime if we didn't!"

"My skull," Sherlock whined, running over to the mantelpiece and wrapping gentle fingers around the skull. "Your friend," he spat at Sheldon, "needs to be more careful."

"I'm sorry," Sheldon began. "You know she's not exactly of our caliber, sometimes you just have to excuse the stupid."

Penny, meanwhile, was busy admiring a violin which she was *not* supposed to touch.

"Can you play this?" She grabbed the instrument firmly by the head and carelessly waved it at the currently sedentary Sherlock.

"Put that down!" Sherlock's deep voice rose into an inhuman sounding screech as he jumped over the back of the couch and tackled a very frightened Penny to the floor.

"Don't. Touch. Anything." Sherlock snatched the violin from Penny's grasp (properly, by the neck) and rose to his feet. Penny huffed, and crinkled her nose at the almost spectral figure towering above her.

The unlocked flat door creaked open, and Penny rose to her feet. All eyes turned to the stocky, muscular silhouette in the doorway. The man drifted out from the shadows and into the doorway.

"Pizza?" he offered meekly.

"Oh, um, just set them down there," John replied. The delivery man placed two large boxes on the table.

"That's £13," the delivery man muttered, lowering the brim on his cap.

John shoved a crumpled note into his hand. "Keep the change." The man slammed the door behind him as he shuffled out of the room.

Like piranhas, Sherlock, John, Sheldon, Leonard, Howard, Raj, and Penny attacked the pizza boxes. Sherlock took the last slice.

"Don't eat that!" Sherlock's voice must have risen at least six octaves. Raj was just about to take a bite of the pizza, but dropped it in shock. "Look." Sherlock pointed at the bottom of the pizza box.

Smeared in hit grease were the words:

Getting warmer.

-Daddy


End file.
